


Move Your Body

by kekecocoa



Series: IMPULSE Nightclub [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, keith pov, slutty dance club au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:11:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9608942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kekecocoa/pseuds/kekecocoa
Summary: Keith had been coming to this club about twice a week for a few years now. The music was good, as far as club music went, and the people were usually tolerable. He could get his adrenaline fix and occasionally a good fuck and then go right back to more mundane life. It had been good system, until HE started showing up.They never spoke; never even danced on the same side of the floor. But they danced together.And Keith was addicted to it.





	1. Your body's poetry, speak to me

**Author's Note:**

> listen i know that dance/club aus have been overdone but this first scene has been haunting me since october and i cant just make things easy on myself so now theres a whole fic
> 
> not beta'd and not edited im so sorry this is mostly a messy stream of consciousness,,,
> 
> rating will probably go up
> 
> fic named after "Move Your Body" by Sia. chapter titles are random lines from the song

Keith sidled up to the body on his right, gyrating his hips and practically grinding down into the other guys lap. He didn’t look back; didn't even matter what the guy looked like. He felt hands on his hips, not pushing or pulling him one way or the other, just resting there with a tension that told him exactly where those hands were thinking about going. Under normal circumstances Keith would only let the guys at the club touch him like that if they really worked for it, but tonight…. Tonight HE was here.

He raised his hand to push through his hair, dragging the dark bangs from his face. He slid his fingers through the sweaty strands and let some of them fall back into place, obscuring his peripheral vision. One of those hands bravely skittered up under his shirt and left trails of heat up his side where the fingertips met his skin. He felt the warm air on his body where fabric used to be as he rocked back and to the side with the beat.

The breath on his neck was hot and those wandering hands were mesmeric but the adrenaline he felt came from the loud bass of the music and the gaze locked with his from across the room.

Keith had been coming to this club about twice a week for a few years now. The music was good, as far as club music went, and the people were usually tolerable. He could get his adrenaline fix and occasionally a good fuck and then go right back to more mundane life. It had been good system, until He started showing up.

They never spoke; never danced on the same side of the floor. But they danced together. 

And Keith was addicted to it.

Keith broke their eye contact to watch the strangers hips grind forward into the body in front of him and he instinctively ground back, licking his dry lips and idly comparing the feeling of the stranger behind him to what HE would feel like. He thought about those long fingers bruising his hip and leaving scorch marks over his ribs and he let his head tip to the side as he swayed forward, putting a little distance between him and the body behind him. His eyes snapped back to that dark stare, watched Him back up a few inches mirroring the space, hands still on the body in front of him but eyes fixed on Keith. It was a little hard to tell from this distance but he was pretty sure the stranger had locked onto the stretch of his neck that was now exposed to the flashing lights. The thought made his lips curl smugly.

He felt the hands return to his side and hip where they slid from when he pushed forward. He briefly considered stepping out of their reach but the one under his shirt started moving across his chest and he watched his dance partner move forward and the way he rolled his body up and into the backside of the other dancer was absolutely sinful. Keith was helpless, feeling all traces of ego fall away as his eyes drank in the smooth movements. He leaned heavily against the body behind him, letting the hand pushing into his hip guide his movements to the music he was barely paying attention to.

Even from across the room, he could see the cocky smirk on His face, barely hidden under the shadow from his snapback. It was undeniably hot and Keith wanted to wipe it off; wanted to make that smug look turn into desperate gasps and moans. He bit the inside of his lip and tried not to look as turned on as he was, watching as He repeated the motion, agonizingly slower, in time with the beat, Keith absently noted. 

He suddenly realized how dry his mouth was.

The fingers on his chest suddenly pinched gently at his nipple and he felt a jolt go through his body. The surprise caused him to look away from Him, but the contact felt good so Keith let his head follow his eyes, rolling to squint at the flashing lights on the ceiling with his head resting on the shoulder behind him. He ground backwards, feeling the hard cock of the stranger against his ass. He spared a moment to wonder if He was as turned on as Keith was.

Keith let the motion of the guy behind him guide his body with the beat of the music and let his head fall in the direction of his dance partner. There were bodies obscuring his line of sight now, but he caught a glimpse. He had stopped dancing. Keith felt something drop in his stomach at the sight, was it midnight already? He glanced at the watch he started wearing a few weeks ago: 12:07. Shit.

The people in the crowd parted enough that Keith could see him as he started to make his way to the exit. Suddenly, the heat from the body behind him was too hot and the air was stifling.

He looked back over his shoulder before he disappeared into the crowd and Keith could feel the way His eyes lingered on his body, pressed up against a stranger and rocking with the bass. The dark heavy gaze met his for a moment but Keith broke it, turning around to finally pay attention to the guy he's been grinding against for the past 15 min or so. He wasn't going to be left staring after him like a lost puppy.

He checked this guy out, pretending he couldn't feel the weight of his stare on the side of his face. He supposed the stranger was pretty attractive. He's done worse, that's for sure.

Keith pushed himself close, bodies not quite touching, and finally decided to reciprocate some of the attention he’d been receiving. He slid one hand from his chest up and hooked it around his neck, getting a good feel of his hard chest. Two months ago, if Keith had been willing to dance with anyone who had muscles like that he would already be planning how to get him off the dance floor and into a secluded area.

Tonight, he just pulled himself closer, dragged his other hand around to squeeze the guy's ass, and glanced towards the exit.

Gone.

Keith almost went home right then but those hands gripped his thigh and raked his back. He decided this would be better than laying in bed staring blankly at the ceiling for the rest of the night.

\----

His fingers drummed against the table, eyes glazing over as he stared out the window of the cafe. He drummed his hand all the way to where his phone sat and he tiredly unlocked it, turning his head a bit from where it rested in his other hand. He stared at the message open and glanced up to the top of the screen to compare the time.

40 minutes.

Keith suppressed a groan of annoyance and swiftly turned off the screen to stare out the window again. He pulled absently at the sleeves on his ratty old sweater as the seconds ticked by..

Just as he was contemplating ordering his lunch now instead of waiting for who-knows-how-much-longer, he finally spotted him hurrying towards the cafe. He scowled a little upon meeting his eyes through the glass.

Shiro gave him a sheepish look before he made it to the door which Keith ignored and he reached up to lower the blinds. The warmth from the sun felt good on his skin in contrast to the A/C, but the light was hurting his eyes and was pushing him closer and closer to a headache. Now that Shiro was here, Keith had no desire to prolong his suffering.

As he approached, Shiro took in a breath probably to apologize for being late. Again.

Keith cut him off before he got more than two syllables out, “Let me guess: you and Matt got caught up on that secret research project and you lost track of time?”

The guilt on Shiro’s face was obvious so Keith spared him from responding by waving dismissively.

“It’s okay. Let’s just get something to eat and then you can try very hard to not tell me anything classified.” Keith stood and slid his phone into his pocket. 

Shiro smiled and let out a short chuckle.

“Thanks.”

He dropped the light jacket he was holding into the seat opposite to claim the table and the two headed towards the counter to place their orders.

The cafe was one of those hole-in-the-wall places that Keith passed by often but never visited. It was a bit cramped inside but it felt… inviting, but Keith couldn't place his finger on why, even after he had stared around for 20 minutes before he gave up and stared out the window instead.

“You've never been here, right,” Shiro said it more like a statement than a question, like he was just going to keep talking, but he paused as he moved around one of the chairs littering their path to the register.

“Nah, I never found the time.”

The excuse felt a little lame since both he and Shiro knew that he had plenty of time to come by, but Shiro’s smile brightened anyways.

“This place is fantastic,” he practically gushed. “Their selection is a little small, but everything on the menu is amazing. Matt and I come in here all the time.”

Keith, of course, already knew this but he smiled in response.

Shiro got to the counter before Keith did, so he stood a little behind and to the side of him, making half an attempt at forming a line. He stared up at the menu hanging near the ceiling (as if he hadn’t read it enough times in the past 40 minutes) and waited for Shiro to order.

He should have known better.

Keith crossed his arms and let his discontented stare bore into the side of Shiro's head. They had been standing here for nearly 5 minutes like this: Shiro analyzing the menu as though he didn't already have the damn thing memorized and Keith waiting impatiently. The dark-skinned girl behind the register had moved off to other duties but she didn't go very far and she kept them in her sight, ready to drop what she was doing to take their order at any moment.

Shiro mumbled under his breath, repeating some of the words on the menu to himself that sounded suspiciously like the same thing he's said 3 times already. Keith huffed a little and readjusted his arms, trying to convey just how irritating Shiro was being. Keith had skipped breakfast this morning and had been practically starving for the past half an hour. He had just about decided to order and leave him standing there talking to himself like an idiot when he caught Shiro looking at him from the corner of his eye, sly grin on his face.

Keith scowled and punched Shiro in the shoulder. He hoped it stung. Shiro laughed a bit and walked to the register, absently rubbing his arm and gesturing for Keith to join him at the counter.

“Hey, Lily. How's it been today? Not too busy, I hope,” Shiro greeted the girl.

Keith rolled his eyes again. Of course he knows the staff here. He stepped up next to him, sliding his hand into his pocket to finger his wallet while he waited for Shiro to finally order.

She made her way over to the them, tucking a loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. Keith thought it looked odd against her dark skin but the contrast was kind of pretty, he supposed. She dropped the rag next to the register.

“It’s been pretty quiet today, thankfully. We don't usually get a lot of customers on the weekend, but the ones that do come in are always obnoxious.” 

She smiled at them both, big and friendly, and Keith felt himself return it.

“So, what can I get you today?”

Keith turned away from her typing in Shiro’s order at the sound of the door opening.

Two men were talking loudly as they came in and the larger one greeted Lily from across the restaurant, raising his hand and smiling broadly. The small handful of customers seated around the room barely looked at the newcomers before returning to their own meals and quiet conversations.

Keith glanced to Lily who was now rolling her eyes and telling them to get out.

They both looked vaguely familiar, though Keith could swear he’s never met either of them and he probably stared longer than was polite. He studied their faces quickly, trying to place them, but came up blank.

Shiro looked up at the two and gave them a small wave before turning back to Keith.

“Go ahead and order. Lunch is on me, today.”

There was a hint of an apology still on his face, so Keith didn't bother protesting and shuffled forward.

He still watched the two approach the counter in his peripheral vision, though.

He ordered his sandwich quickly and watched Shiro fish around in his pockets for his wallet, but he was paying more attention to the strangers approaching the counter.

One of the newcomers, the one who greeted Lily from the door, went straight towards the kitchen in the back. He cracked the door and poked his head inside and called another greeting to an aunt and an uncle before he went in. Keith didn't catch the names but he heard the warm welcome in reply.

Well, that explained the big guy. Lily may have bleached her hair, but there was clearly a family resemblance there.

The other man came straight to the counter and leaned dramatically against it on the other side of Shiro. He fixed Lily with a wide smirk, stretching the tanned skin on his face in a way that almost looked friendly, if it weren’t for the devious glint in his eye. It immediately set Keith on edge, as if he should recognize the way his lips curved and the crook of his eyebrow.

“Hey, gorgeous. You come here often?”

Keith wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a joke or not, but Lily picked up the dirty rag she was using earlier and threw it at his face. He couldn't stop the smile if he wanted to but when the cloth fell and revealed the stranger's scandalized expression, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

Shiro, however, did no such thing and the man shot him a dirty look before scooping the rag up and tossing it back at Lily. It hit her on the shoulder and fell to the ground but now Lily was giggling too. The responding lopsided smile that spread across his face suited him much better, Keith thought.

“Hey! You better not be harassing my precious little cousin!” The other man came back through the door holding what looked to be pre-packaged sandwiches tucked into his arm.

“Harassing?” the man at the counter sounded surprised at the accusation. “She's the one who threw a rag at my face!”

“And for good reason,” she tried to say haughtily, but the smile she was trying to smother ruined the effect. 

The big man fixed his companion with a suspicious look, but the way the corners of his mouth twitched betrayed his serious expression. He ducked down behind the counter, carefully balancing his precious cargo, and started rummaging through the stuff stored there.

Now that the show was over, Shiro finally pulled his card from his wallet and swiped it through the machine. Lily handed him the receipt and fixed the man at the counter with a look, sternly told him to behave, then headed into the back, repeating their order to the staff.

He made a face at her back before he turned around to face Shiro, relaxing against the counter again. His expression smoothed over and his eyes caught the light, sparkling blue for a moment.

“So, Shiro, what brings you here this fine Sunday afternoon?” 

Keith saw a single eyebrow raise at the question.

“The same reason I come here on any other day of the week,” Shiro said mildly.

He waved his hand in the air, shaking the colorful rubber bracelets on his wrist, and shook his head dismissively.

“Yeah, but you never come here on the weekend. So, what’s up?”

He finally spotted Keith and his eyes narrowed a bit before blowing back wide. He let out a short whistle.

“Ohhhh… I get it.”

“I can guarantee it isn't whatever you're thinking.”

Shiro’s statement did nothing to deter the sly grin creeping across the man's face and he leaned in to stage whisper to Shiro.

“I guess he could be hot, if he got a haircut and actually learned to dress himself for a date, but I still think you can do better.” He leaned back and set that smug look on Keith.

That familiar feeling was back, but Keith ignored it this time and glared at him.

Shiro dropped his head into his hand and groaned, “Lance, we are not dating.”

The asshole, Lance, apparently, leaned back and frowned in confusion. He looked between Keith and Shiro considering this new bit of information.

“Is this a ‘we aren't dating but I hope we will’ thing? Or a ‘we aren't dating ever’ type thing?” He brought one hand up to stroke his chin like some kind of cartoon detective.

Keith snorted. 

“We aren't dating ever,” Keith parroted at him as patronizingly as possible.

Lance stared suspiciously at him for another moment and then back at Shiro before brightening. 

“Oh, well in that case, it's nice to meet ya. I’m Lance.” The lopsided smile came back and he gestured over the counter to the other man watching this exchange. “That’s Hunk.”

Keith blinked, he felt like he missed something.

“Keith,” he said slowly. He could feel that headache coming in right about now. 

Lance opened his mouth as if to say something but right then some pop song started playing from his pocket. He scrambled to pull his phone from where it was trapped in his jeans.

“That’s definitely Pidge,” Hunk said before Lance could pull his hand from his pocket. He plopped a paper bag full of sandwiches on the counter in front of his friend and reached down to pick up the other two that he had been filling with baked goodies from the cabinets.

Lance grimaced at the screen, “Yeah, it is.”

He rejected the call and quickly swiped a text message.

“Well, as cute as it is to watch you flirt with Shiro’s not-boyfriend, I’d rather not be late. Again.” Hunk didn't even look up at the horrible squawking noise that Lance made and stuffed a concerning amount of cookies into the already full bags.

Keith watched Lance flush and sputter protests at Hunk, who completely ignored him. It was almost funny. He quieted when Shiro put a hand on his shoulder.

“You know how Pidge gets when you're late,” he said.

Lance’s face pinched as if he remembered something awful and then he sighed, “Yeah, yeah. Let's just get out of here.”

He snatched up the bag of sandwiches from the counter as Hunk carefully stuffed some napkins into the corners of the other two bags. Lance shot him a dirty look as he came around the counter carrying the rest of their goodies.

“And I wasn't going to flirt with him,” he stated, glaring hard at Hunk. His eyes flicked to Keith's for a moment. 

“Whatever you say, man. But you flirt with every not-date that Shiro brings in here so it was pretty obvious where this was going.” Hunk didn't even look at Lance but instead looked at Keith, “Sorry about him. He's got a big mouth but he's pretty harmless.”

Keith shrugged at the apology. He wasn’t really willing to forgive him, but he also never expected to see the guy ever again, let alone talk to him.

“I can't help that Shiro has hot friends,” Lance protested as they made their way to the door.

Keith watched the two leave (“And, honestly, he’s not even that hot,” Lance was telling Hunk just before the door shut behind them.) and that familiar feeling came back stronger, now that he was looking at Lance’s back. He couldn’t place it, but the shape of his shoulders prickled at the back of his mind. 

By the time they were completely out of sight, Shiro was moving his jacket so he could sit at their table, and Keith followed, sparing one last look at the door.

“So, what have you been up to,” Shiro asked as Keith slid into his chair.

He shrugged, “Not much that you haven’t already heard about. It’s fine.”

“Is work still going okay?” Shiro prodded.

Keith made a face at him before responding, “Yes, Shiro. Work is fine.”

Shiro gave him a concerned look.

“I haven’t done anything to piss anyone off, if that’s what you want to know,” Keith rolled his eyes.

Shiro smiled, “Sorry, I just worry about you.”

Any irritation with Shiro fell away at that and Keith gave him a small smile in return, “Yeah, I know.”

“Well, if work is fine and everything else is fine, then what’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keith said.

“Alright, you don’t have to talk about it.”

The two lapsed into silence for a few moments before Lily arrived with their food.

“Okay then!” she said brightly as she started unloading her small tray. “This is Shiro’s. And this is for his cute friend. Let me know if you two need anything, yeah?”

She winked at Keith before she turned and headed back to the counter.

He stared after her, surprised by the random compliment.

“She’s too young for you,” Shiro said, teasing smile firmly back in place.

Keith scowled at him, “She’s not my type and you know that.”

Shiro chuckled as he reached for his sandwich, “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Keith hoped that would be the end of that particular topic and took a sip from his water.

“Sooo….”

Keith prayed to whatever god was listening that Shiro wasn’t going to say what he thought he was going to say.

“Is your type still the kind that you bring home from seedy clubs at 3am and then never see again?”

Keith slumped against the back of the seat and rolled his eyes again, he knew he should’ve changed the subject while he had the chance.

“Shiro…”

“I know, I know,” Shiro said quickly, “you want me to stay out of it. But, Keith, you did say that you would try to find other things to do with your time than hang out there. And, so far, you only seem to be going more often than you used to.”

Keith looked down at the table. He had meant what he said back then. He looked into joining a gym or something, just like Shiro suggested. He even thought about taking him up on his offer to go out with his friend group on occasion. It even sounded fun.

But before he made a decision… He showed up.

Or maybe he had been there before, but Keith never noticed him. Either way, instead of finding a new place to spend all his free time, he began going to the club almost every night. He always left around midnight, but there was no discernable pattern in what days he would be there and Keith was fairly sure that if he missed him one night then he’d be gone for good.

Keith wrapped his hand around his glass and contemplated telling Shiro about his mysterious dance partner. It was… oddly personal in a way that he didn’t expect. 

Also ‘Oh yeah, I started going there even more now because there’s this guy there and he’s really hot but I’ve never talked to him so we just have this weird sexual tension and dance with other people while staring at each other from across the club,’ sounds pretty weird.

“Shiro, I,” Keith started to say before he let it trail off. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to finish that sentence.

Shiro smiled at him in between bites, “Hey, you can tell me anything, but if you aren’t ready then that’s fine, too.”

He returned the smile and made up his mind.

“Listen, this is probably going to sound a little crazy,” Keith began. 

Shiro gave him another small smile around the food in his mouth.

“I meant what I said. I checked out that gym you mentioned and it looks great. And I even thought about tagging along with you and your friends on Fridays for bowling or pub crawls or whatever.”

“Mhmm,” Shiro hummed when Keith fell quiet.

“It’s just that, well, right around then, someone new started showing up around the club. And, I don’t know how to describe this, but we kind of dance together?” he frowned at his choice of words.

“So you spend every night at the club dancing with one guy?” Shiro asked, trying to understand.

“Sort of. It’s complicated...,” Keith decided he didn’t want to explain the weird eye sex thing after all. “Anyways, I never know when he’s going to be there so I started going more often so I could catch him.”

“Hmm…” Shiro thought, “can’t you just ask him when he’s going to be there?”

Keith looked back at the table with another frown.

“In fact, if you guys dance so often why don’t you hang out somewhere else?”

“Uhh…” Keith avoided looking Shiro in the eye by picking up his own sandwich. “Well, we don’t really… talk.”

The confusion was clear on his face, even to Keith who was still looking at his food.

“Keith….” Shiro said, starting to come to a conclusion.

“It’s not like that!” He interrupted, knowing exactly what Shiro was thinking. “I’m not having sex with him!”

A distinct hush fell over the restaurant.

Keith glanced around at the suddenly very quiet patrons and Lily who was pretending to be very invested in her phone. He hunched down trying to hide his embarrassment and took a large bite from his sandwich.

Shiro gave an awkward cough and took a quick drink from his water. That must have been the signal everyone was waiting on because the sound of conversation picked back up at the other tables.

Keith chewed quickly and swallowed before saying quietly, “I mean it, Shiro.”

“I believe you.”

The two ate in silence. That first bite reminded Keith just how hungry he was and he finished the rest in record time.

“So, if all you guys do is dance together,” Shiro started again, now that he finished eating, “and you’ve never even talked, then what’s the big deal? You’ve danced with probably a hundred guys. Why do you keep going back for this one?”

“I… I don’t know,” Keith said. He’s been trying to figure it out for weeks, but he’s still stuck at square one.

“Maybe you need to talk to him,” Shiro suggested.

Keith didn’t respond. He doesn’t usually need to do a lot of talking at the club; communication usually happens through touches and looks. He knew how to communicate like that. It came much easier than words. What did he even have to talk to this guy about anyway?

“Or, maybe,” Shiro continued when Keith failed to respond, “you just need to let this go.”

“Yeah… maybe,” he agreed vaguely.  
He didn’t know what to do but giving up on this seemed wrong, somehow.

“Anyway,” Keith determined it was time for new topic, “how’s the project coming along?”

Shiro smiled brightly.

\----

Keith debated about going to the club tonight. It was Sunday night and Sunday was the one day that he has never seen him. So, chances are that he won’t be there tonight either. But, then again, Keith doesn’t usually go on Sundays, so he could be there and Keith has just been missing him.

He laid out on his mattress, staring at the ceiling and listening to the cars go by outside his window. It was only 7pm. Still pretty early by his standards, but he was going to have to make a decision soon.

He still hadn’t made up his mind about talking to him yet. Talking isn’t something one can easily do at the club, after all. And he keeps coming back to the question of what to even say. Keith supposed he could give up on this whole thing, it wasn’t like he owed this man anything. All he ever did was stay as far away from Keith as he could then make almost constant eye contact as he danced like a slut with some other random guy. 

Okay, that kind of annoyed Keith.

Keith is a regular face at the club and everyone who spends any amount of time tries to dance with him at least once. He’s always been a bit choosy as to who he dances with but he’s always had his pick of the best. This guy clearly has some sort of interest but every time Keith has moved closer, he just moves farther away. Like some stupid game of cat and mouse.

He still doesn’t understand this guy and he’s been trying to figure him out for over two months. If he just came over to Keith, or at least stayed still, then they could dance and possibly fuck and that would end this horrible game. Keith could get on with his life then. 

Keith flopped over onto his side and huffed in frustration. Thinking about this wasn’t getting him anywhere. Shiro was right. Either he was going to have to confront this guy or he was going to have to forget about him.

Well, Keith has never been a quitter before, why start now.

But the problem was catching him before he could make his midnight escape. Nothing Keith has tried so far has worked. He was pretty slippery and Keith had a time limit to work with.

Wait.

He knew exactly how to catch him.

With that plan settled, he made his decision. He was going to the club tonight.


	2. Won't you let me be your rhythm tonight?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as you may have noticed, ive added another chapter to the total. instead of being 3 chapters long, its now 4. i realized i needed to add some things in as lead up to major events so things could play out a little better. sorry if you were looking forward to the conclusion soon but i hope i can make it up to you!
> 
> rating has gone up!
> 
> im sorryyy,,, this chapter was pretty hard to write and ive been up all night trying to finish it so i hope it came out well 
> 
> also fun fact: this chapter is nearly double the length of the first one (probably also double the errors lol)
> 
> EDIT: fixed a lot of wording thanks to my beta, pearlgirl710!! thank you for fixing my garbled mess!!!

 

Keith was pissed.

 

Not only was Sunday night was a bust, as he suspected it would be, Monday night was too. That wasn’t unusual but now that he had a goal it was frustrating just waiting around for him to show up.

 

Also, his headache hadn’t actually gone away in the past two days. Which was less important, but still contributing to his overall terrible mood.

 

It was now Tuesday afternoon, the chilly wind was blowing through the streets and right through his jacket. He hunched in on himself as the wind picked up again, taking dead leaves and plastic bags with it. Looking up, he glared briefly at the sky, cursing the unusually cold day, and then checked the store names lining the street. One was deemed acceptable and he ducked inside.

 

He hadn’t been sure of what to do with his sudden free time after getting off of work early, but spending a couple of hours in a coffee shop couldn’t be that bad. It’s not like he was going to do anything at home this afternoon anyway.

 

The store wasn’t too busy despite the blustering wind outside. Keith had figured a place like this would be a popular spot to shelter from the weather. It was definitely a lot nicer in here where one could enjoy the warm sunshine without being hit in the face with a bunch of half-frozen leaves.

 

He shrugged the thought from his mind and walked up to the register. The barista that was restocking the cookies in the bakery display closed the window and made her way around the counter to the other side and typed something into the screen.

 

“Okay! What can I get for you?” she asked cheerfully.

 

“Um, I’ll have a…” Keith trailed off as he looked up at the complicated menu. He always drank the cheap store brand coffee that he made at home but he had no idea what the equivalent would be here. Whatever, it didn’t really matter that much right now.

 

“I’ll just have a caffè americano.” He remembered Shiro had that one time. Keith absently hoped that this wasn’t one of those awful things that he got addicted to in grad school. He didn’t even wait for the girl to tell him his total before he pulled a bill out of his wallet and held it out to her.

 

“Uhh, sir?” she said hesitantly, not touching the money. “What size?”

 

“What?” Keith blurted eloquently. “Oh, uh, a medium, I guess.”

 

She gave him a polite smile and finished tapping his order on the screen before she finally took the money and gave him his change.

 

“It’ll be right out.”

 

Keith watched as she turned around and headed straight for the back room. Frowning in irritation, he put both his hands forcefully back into his pockets with his wallet and looked around.

 

The other patrons were scattered across the store hunched over phones or laptops at the many comfy chairs and tables in the seating area. None of them had looked up when he first walked in and they certainly did not do so now.

 

He looked back to the door, shifting his weight from one foot to another and wondering if he should just sit down or if he should stand by the pick up counter. He could hear the sound of the barista talking to someone as she came closer again. Keith resolved that it couldn’t take more than a couple minutes to make a cup of coffee anyway and moved towards the other side of the bar.

 

When the door opened, Keith glanced up to see her talking animatedly with someone behind her. The man behind her responded with a quick laugh and reassuring her by saying “you’ll get the hang of it! You’re still learning.”

 

That voice, though….

 

Keith recognized it.

 

Sure enough, from behind the polite barista came the one person he thought he would never see again: Lance.

 

Keith felt like he had to physically suppress his groan and he only knew he succeeded because he didn’t receive any strange looks. _Of course_ he would work here. Suddenly, his headache felt twice as bad as before he walked into this stupid shop.

 

He made a quick turn and headed straight for the nearest table. If he waited by the counter then Lance might talk to him again and that was not an experience he wanted to relive right now. He sat and immediately huddled into his jacket, trying to hide enough of his face to be unrecognizable.

 

That didn’t keep him from peeking over and watching the two staff members work, though. Or, rather, watch Lance work and watch the girl watch Lance work. He was explaining something to her as his hands moved efficiently over the equipment to complete the order. Keith felt himself relax a little as he realized that Lance didn’t see him.

 

As he spied on them from his small table near the wall and the tension started to fall away, Keith realized that Lance was more subdued here than he was last time he saw him. He still laughed a little too loudly and joked with his co-worker, but it wasn’t as obnoxious as it was before. It was kind of nice to see him so comfortable. Maybe it was just the glow from the autumn sun filling the place with a calm warmth that was affecting him, but he had to admit that Lance was actually kind of attractive.

 

Not his usual type (he usually went for boys who were less chatty), but still.

 

Lance finished up his demonstration as a new customer walked in and the other barista said one last thing to him and gestured towards Keith before she went to take their order. Keith mentally cursed her for pointing him out and looked away before Lance could make eye contact or something equally awful. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when had to go pick up his drink. Maybe he could just wait until Lance was busy with the next order and he could grab it and make a quick getaway.

 

He watched Lance from the edges of his peripheral vision, to avoid looking directly at the counter. Lance was positioned nearby the pickup counter and was facing towards the register. Keith’s drink was sitting right next to the hand the he was leaning on. There was no way he could get it without being noticed.

 

Lance and the girl exchanged a few words, and as Keith watched, the other boy left the counter and walked into the back room. The coffee cup was still sitting on the counter, now unprotected. This was his chance.

 

Keith had barely managed to get to his feet before Lance came back through the door, his apron gone. He quickly sat back down.

 

Lance smiled and nodded at his co-worker when she asked him to confirm the ingredients for the other customer’s order. He stood there and watched as she gathered everything she would need for a moment. Keith chewed at the inside of his lip to keep from bouncing his leg in impatience.

 

Then Lance did the exact opposite of everything that Keith wanted him to do: he picked up Keith’s drink and began walking towards his table.

 

Lance smiled again, this time at him, as he approached. It was a lot nicer than the last time he turned a grin on him and Keith was immediately reminded that he was just checking this guy out a few minutes ago.

 

“Hey! Keith, right?” he said as he placed the cup down on the table.

 

Shit, there was no getting out of this one.

 

“Uh, yeah.” He reached out to grab the drink. “Thanks.”

 

Lance gave a quick laugh, “Haha! I thought I recognized that mullet.”

 

It didn’t sound like he was trying to insult Keith this time but he still scowled at him.

 

“Hey,” Lance held up his hands in surrender, “it’s a few decades out of style, but it’s not a bad look on you.”

 

Keith squinted suspiciously at him but decided to let it drop and didn’t respond.

 

“So,” Lance pulled out the other chair across from Keith and sat down, “what brings you in here on this blistery afternoon?”

 

“The weather,” Keith said shortly. He hoped that by being a poor conversation partner Lance would just leave on his own.

 

Lance fixed him with a lopsided grin that made his eyes bright and sparkly. Keith had to look away. That familiar feeling was easier to ignore today than it was on Sunday but it still bothered him.

 

He picked up his cup and took a drink, hoping to avoid the rest of this conversation. Coming here was a huge mistake.

 

Lance opened his mouth to say something but was immediately cut off when Keith started coughing.

 

“Woah, hey! You okay there?” Lance asked.

 

“Ugh,” Keith managed to get out as the coughs died down. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

“Hahaha, I didn’t realize my coffee was that bad,” Lance joked when Keith glared at his drink.

 

He put the cup down again on the table. “No, I’m sure it’s fine.”

 

“What, then? Did I make it wrong?”

 

Keith propped his arms on the table and let his head rest in his hands. The sudden coughing fit reminded him of the headache that’s been following him around. “I’m sure you made it right.”

 

“Then what? You don’t like Americanos?” Lance continued his onslaught of questions.

 

Keith wished he would just stop talking. “I guess not.”

 

“Hmm…” Lance apparently couldn’t even be quiet when he was thinking. “Is it too bitter?”

 

Keith ignored him this time, closing his eyes and wishing he had just gone straight home and taken a nap.

 

“Hey, are you okay, dude?” Lance leaned over the table trying to look at his face.

 

“Yeah, just a headache,” Keith explained.

 

“Hmm…” Lance thought out loud. Again. “I’ll be right back.”

 

Keith heard him get up and walk back behind the counter. The throbbing in his head subsided after a few moments of sitting quietly. He opened his eyes and looked up to where Lance was busying himself with... something. Keith had no idea what exactly he was up to, only that Lance intended on coming back.

 

He watched Lance stretch to pull something down from the top shelf. His t-shirt rode up and Keith’s attention snapped from the box Lance was grabbing to the tanned skin of his exposed lower back.

 

Huh. Interesting.

 

Lance didn’t seem like the type who would have a tattoo on his hip.

 

Keith decided he didn’t want to think about Lance’s back anymore and instead he returned to glaring at his cup of coffee. He was not going to take Shiro’s coffee recommendations ever again.

 

Never mind that Shiro didn’t suggest it in the first place. It was just easier to blame him for Keith’s poor judgement right now.

 

Lance returned to the table with another cup in his hand and he placed it down in front of Keith. He looked up to Lance’s friendly smile.

 

“Drink that instead of the coffee,” he said. “Caffeine usually makes headaches worse. Unless you’re suffering from withdrawal.” Lance sat back down.

 

Keith looked down to the new cup in front of him. There was a string hanging out the side.

 

“Is this tea?” he asked, hesitating before he grabbed the cup.

 

“Yeah, it’s this chamomile blend we have,” Lance explained. “I don’t know if you’re a big fan of tea or not, but it usually helps with headaches.”

 

Keith was not particularly fond of tea, but he was a bit touched that Lance would go to the effort to make it for him. He picked it up and brought it towards his mouth and Lance practically shot across the table to intercept him.

 

“Woah!” He grabbed his arm, carefully took the hot drink out of Keith’s hand and placed it back on the table. “I just poured that like, less than a minute ago, dude. You’re gonna burn yourself if you try to drink it now.”

 

“Well, then why did you give it to me?” Keith questioned grumpily. How was he supposed to know it was too hot to drink?

 

Lance made an annoyed face at him, “Uh, because it’s for you? What else was I supposed to do? Hold onto it until it’s safe to drink?”

 

Keith really didn’t have a response so he just huffed and slouched against the booth, looking out the window feeling a bit dumb for making such an obvious mistake.

 

His very obviously annoyed body language didn’t seem to get through to Lance, though.

 

“So, how do you and Shiro know each other?” he asked pleasantly, but something in his tone told Keith that he was fishing for information.

 

Keith side-eyed him and answered vaguely, “I’ve known him for most of my life.”

 

Lance frowned at Keith’s brief reply.

 

“Uh, okay..?” he said, processing the unexpected information. “I mean, what’s your relationship with him?”

 

Keith finally turned to glare at him directly.

 

“C’mon, man,” Lance said pressingly, “I just want to know if you guys are friends or whatever.”

 

Keith let the glare go but he continued to watch him through narrowed eyes. What the hell was this guy really after?

 

“I mean,” Lance began to ramble in the silence, “yeah, I lowkey wanna know if he’s still single but I know I don’t have a chance and that’s not really what I’m asking here. I just wanna know about you.”

 

Keith felt his eyes go wide in surprise.

 

“Wait!” Lance quickly backtracked, “That’s not what I meant!”

 

Okay, Keith was done. This was getting way too confusing.

 

“If you want to know something, just ask. Don’t beat around the bush like this. It’s annoying.”

 

“Ugh, fine.” Lance visibly gathered his wits and started again, “I just wanna know if you’re the sort of person who likes Mario Kart.”

 

Of all the things Keith could have expected him to say, that was definitely near the bottom of the list.

 

“I…” he drew out the syllable, still a bit unsure about what Lance was trying to get at. “Which one?”

 

Lance seemed to calm and that grin came back. “64,” was all he said.

 

Keith simultaneously felt more comfortable but also more uncertain now that Lance was smiling again.

 

“I suppose it depends on why you’re asking.”

 

He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just say no and get the hell out. Just because a boy with pretty blue eyes suggests you play video games with him doesn’t mean you have to go along with it.

 

Lance’s grin turned into a full on smirk and he leaned over the table. Sure, his polite, friendly smile was nice to look at in a sort of aesthetically pleasing way. But that cocksure edge that it took made Lance come a little too close to the type of guy Keith would fuck in a public bathroom. He wanted to say he regretted encouraging this but he couldn’t find one ounce of annoyance with this new turn of events. Pushing down the vague feeling that was trying to tell him that smug look was familiar, he leaned closer, meeting Lance’s unspoken challenge.

 

“Well, it just so happens that tonight is MarioKart night and we also happen to be down a body.”

 

Keith hesitated for a moment; it was tempting. He didn’t even know who “we” was, but it sounded fun.

 

But…

 

He couldn’t risk skipping the club tonight. Tuesday was one of the nights that He was usually there.

 

“I…” Keith leaned back, “I don’t know.”

 

Lance took that as his cue and also moved back into his chair. “Yeah? How come? You got someplace to be?”

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

“Oh, well, what time?” Lance pushed on despite Keith’s terse responses.

 

“Sometime around 9.” Keith hoped he wouldn’t ask any more questions.

 

“Oh, yeah?” Lance sounded surprisingly cheerful with this bit of information. “I usually leave around that time anyways. We could always end earlier tonight, if you want,” he ended hopefully.

 

“I…” Keith began again. Lance clearly wanted him there and if it wasn’t going to interfere with his plans then he had no reason to refuse. “Yeah, why not.”

 

And there was that big smile again. Keith almost wished he would stop doing that. It made him unfairly attractive for such a generally annoying person.

 

“Awesome. We usually get started around six-ish, so just be there by then,” he said as he stood up, taking the abandoned Americano. “My break’s almost over so I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight.”

 

He threw a quick wink at Keith and pointed at the cup of tea. “Also, that’s probably safe to drink now.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

 

Keith sat still for a moment and tried to grasp the fact that he just agreed to go hang out and play video games with this guy, who was practically a stranger (a rather irritating stranger), and his friends. All because the idiot managed to get a rise out of him. Also, he was kind of hot, but that wasn’t something Keith wanted to dwell too much on.

 

Lance was a friend of Shiro’s (however strange that friendship might be), and Keith didnt want to get in the middle and mess things up because he kinda wanted to bang the guy.

 

He picked up his cup of tea and took a sip out of it. It was still pretty hot but Lance was right about the temperature. But also... He took a larger drink of the hot liquid.

 

Yup. Lance had sweetened it, probably with honey.

 

He fought against the urge to smile, instead forcing the corners of his mouth into a frown, and wondered if that was just how he normally made the tea or if he actually thought Keith would prefer it sweeter. He tried to pretend that the second thought wasn’t so flattering. There’s no way that Lance could have figured out that he had a sweet tooth after spending only a few minutes with him.

 

Keith slowly drank the rest of his tea in peace, now that he was left alone. He stared blankly out the window watching people and cars go by and very consciously NOT looking behind the counter.

 

Instead, he let his mind wander to the mystery boy at the club. He still wasn’t sure of what to say to him. The more that he thought about it, though, the more he realized that he really didn’t have anything to talk about. He just wanted to fuck the guy senseless. He didn’t need many words to convey that.

 

He drained the last of his tea, which was mostly just honey at the bottom.

 

Keith was grateful for Shiro’s advice, but he didn’t know the whole story. Talking wasn’t going to get him what he wanted.

 

He stood up, taking his now empty cup, and headed for the counter where Lance was cleaning a milk spill. He stopped and looked up as Keith approached.

 

“Hey, Keith. Did the tea help?”

 

He hadn’t noticed it before, but it actually seemed like Lance was right again. The pain wasn’t gone but he definitely felt better than he did earlier.

 

“Yeah, actually it did.”

 

“That’s good. Did you need something else?”

 

“Uh, yeah. I need your address.”

 

Lance raised a brow teasingly, “Oh, yeah? Most people start by asking for a number first.”

 

Keith just looked at him, trying to puzzle out exactly what he was saying.

 

“I can’t exactly go there if I don’t know where I’m going,” Keith tried elaborating.

 

“Ooohh, assuming much are we?” Lance leaned against the counter, smirking again.

 

Keith tried to make sense of why he was flirting with him and playing hard to get instead of just giving him the address.

 

“Very bold move there, Keith. But I don’t just give out my address to any random person.”

 

Keith was totally lost now.

 

“I’m not just any random person, though.” Why was he being so difficult about this?

 

Lance looked at him skeptically. “Is that so, huh? And why’s that?”

 

“ _Because_ ,” he stressed irritatedly, “you invited me.”

 

Keith watched the teasing look melt into one of confusion and then finally morph into understanding.

 

“OH!” he exclaimed, laughing loudly. “No, we aren’t going to my house. That place is already crowded. We’re going to Hunk’s. His parents are out of town for the next couple of weeks so his house is basically empty right now.”

 

Keith felt the tips of his ears redden.

 

“Well, I still need the address.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, let me write it down,” Lance said, laughter still in his voice. He pulled some receipt paper from the machine and a pen from his pocket and scribbled it down.

 

Lance held it out when he finished. “Okay! See you in a couple hours, then. Don’t bother eating before you come. Unless you don’t like pizza.” He gave another smirk as Keith took the paper, “And be ready to get demolished.”

 

Keith hated how that seemed hotter every time he saw it.

 

“Big words from a guy who can’t even make Americanos,” he retorted with his own smug look.

 

He didn’t wait for a response before he turned and headed straight for the door. But that didn’t stop Lance from shouting one at his back.

 

“Hey! Just because you don’t have tastebuds doesn’t mean I did it wrong!”

 

Once outside, the wind hit him and he huddled into his jacket again. He slipped his phone from his pocket to check the time - 4:07. Good. There was still time for him to go home and take that nap before he started his busy evening.

 

\----

 

“Ha! BOOM!” Lance practically jumped out of his seat on the couch, controller held tight in his hands.

 

Keith growled a wordless response. He kept his eyes trained on the t.v. in front of him, ignoring the activity from the other people in the room.

 

“Don’t get too comfortable up there, Lance,” Pidge said with an insidious tone in her voice.

 

Not giving in to the urge to glance at her screen, Keith focused on bringing his kart back on track and something flew past him on the road. He couldn’t help his smile even when Pidge and Hunk both passed him chasing the Spiny Shell and he dropped down to 4th place.

 

“Ohh! No, no, no, NO!” Lance shouted as his kart flew into the air from the impact.

 

“Haha, see ya,” Pidge taunted, taking first place from him and speeding towards the finish line.

 

Keith picked up speed and passed Lance.

 

“It was nice knowing you, Pidge,” Hunk said. Suddenly, he launched a Red Shell that knocked her off course and he passed the finish line.

 

“Oh, that was cold,” she said bitterly as her kart managed to cross just behind him.

 

Keith slid in just after her, taking 3rd place. Overall, he’s been doing pretty well, considering it’s been years since he last played a video game. He was mildly impressed with himself.

 

“Ugghh,” Lance groaned as he rushed into last place. He flopped back on the couch next to Hunk. The controller slipped from his hand and landed on the table between the couch and the chair that Keith was currently occupying.

 

Keith placed his controller next to Lance’s and flexed the muscles in his hand. The past couple of hours felt like a whirlwind. The moment he rang the doorbell of Hunk’s mid-sized house he was whisked inside and down into the basement where he was greeted by a glowing large screen t.v. mounted on the wall surrounded by a comfy looking couch and a couple of large armchairs. The lights had been dimmed low and the smell of pizza filled the room. Lance had reintroduced him to Hunk and then he met Pidge, who had been seated on the floor in front of the couch and was surrounded by all four boxes of pizza.

 

They had all settled into their spots and started chowing down on their first slices as they set the game up. There wasn’t much talking that happened before the game got started, except for Lance’s bragging and Pidge’s ensuing shutdown, for which Keith was grateful. He wasn’t sure how to communicate with these people yet. At least he could handle video game trash talking.

 

Despite doubting his decision on the way here, he found that he actually enjoyed himself. It was strange how warmly he had been greeted and swept into the three friend’s routine. And, while it left him feeling a little awkward and overwhelmed, he couldn’t say he disliked it.

 

“You guys suck,” was all Lance had to say after failing to come in first place in every race tonight.

 

Keith looked over to where he was dramatically sprawled out across the arm of the couch. The hand that had held the controller was still hanging gracelessly in midair, hovering over the table. Keith’s eyes traveled up the length of his arm. Lance was only a couple inches taller than him but for some reason his arms just looked so long. He followed the vivid lines of shadow created by the brightness of the screen up to where his arm disappeared underneath his t-shirt.

 

He had told himself several times today to stop checking Lance out, but so far he’s failed every time. At this point, he’s basically given up and he lets his eyes roam across the planes of his chest, only slightly more visible under his shirt because of how wide his arms were thrown. The fabric was pulled tight across his core and pinched at his broad shoulders. Keith allowed his eyes to draw along the folds to the stretched muscles in his neck and traced the cut of his jawline pointed towards the ceiling. Keith absently realized how his open, surrendered position would make it easy to crawl on top on of him, push those shoulders down into the couch, and give him the best lap dance of his life.

 

He looked away.

 

“Maybe you just need to git gud, scrub,” Pidge countered from the floor in between bites of another slice of pizza.

 

“You’ve been having a really off night, huh, Lance” remarked Hunk. “You usually get first more we do.”

 

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Pidge turned around to face him, shit-eating grin on her face like she already knew what the answer was. Her eyes flicked to Keith for a moment.

 

“Ugh,” Lance repeated, bringing his face back down from staring skyward to scowl at her. “I don’t know. Maybe you nerds rigged the game before I got here.”

 

Pidge snorted, “Yeah, right. I already tried that once, but Hunk wouldn’t let me mess with his system.”

 

“It’s a classic!” Hunk protested. “I don’t want you messing around and damaging it!”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Pidge waved away his concern. “The point is, we didn’t do anything. You’re just awful today.”

 

“Uhhh… yeah. Anyways,” Lance opted for a change in topic, “you’re not bad, Keith. How often do you play?”

 

Keith shook his head. “Actually, it’s been years since I’ve played any video games.”

 

Lance looked at him incredulously. “What?! No way!”

 

Pidge snickered to herself, but Keith ignored her.

 

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

 

“Well, for starters,” Lance began, “you’ve beaten me in almost every race! We’ve had MarioKart Night at least once a month for the past three years! There’s no way that could happen unless you played all the time!”

 

Keith frowned at him. “Whether you believe me or not doesn’t change the facts.”

 

“Maybe he’s, like, a secret MarioKart prodigy or something,” Hunk interrupted.

 

“That’s just stupid,” Lance huffed at him.

 

“Maybe I am,” Keith decided to roll with it. If there’s one thing that he’s learned about Lance in the past couple of hours, it’s that he’s very easy to rile up. Provoking him has probably been the most entertaining part of the night.

 

“What? No. That’s impossible.”

 

Keith eyed the way his shoulders stiffened.

 

“Oh, yeah?” he challenged. “And why’s that? It’s not like you beat me even once.”

 

“ _Because_ ,” Lance glared at him, taking a slightly more aggressive stance as he squared himself up for a fight, “there’s no such thing.”

 

God, Keith needed to learn how to quit while he was ahead. It was a little difficult to concentrate on this ridiculous argument when all he wanted was for Lance to push him up against a wall and let out his frustrations in a different way.

 

“Besides, I’m just having a bad night. If you raced me on any other day, I’d beat you, hands down,” he declared.

 

“Is that so? I’ll believe that when I see it,” Keith responded.

 

“Well,” Pidge interceded, “I guess that settles it.”

 

Keith’s attention was broken and he looked at her in confusion. “Uh, settles what?”

 

When she smiled, Keith could practically see the calculations going on in her head.

 

“Whether or not you’re coming back for game night.”

 

Keith was momentarily dumbstruck. He'd never considered coming back. Never considered that they’d want him to.

 

“Every week: same day, same time. We cycle through our favorites and sometimes throw in new games. Next week is Smash Bros.”

 

“Yes!” Lance jumped in quickly. “Next week I’ll kick your ass!”

 

“Right,” Keith said. “Just like you did today.”

 

Lance’s face pinched in irritation, but he didn’t rise to the bait this time. “Today was an off day for me. Next week I’ll show you what I’m all about!”

 

“Hey, it’s 8:15. Do you have time for one more or should we just call it a night?” Hunk addressed the group but he directed the question at Keith.

 

“I…” Keith trailed off as he thought about it for a moment. He just had to be there before 9. It would probably take him about 30 minutes to get home, change, and get to the club. He could probably spare another 5 minutes or so to get through another race.

 

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll give Lance another chance to redeem himself.”

 

“Ohhhh… You are going to regret that, mullet boy!”

 

\----

 

Keith had arrived at the club later than he meant to. It was still before 9, but not by much. One last race had turned into two last races and then three last races and, before he knew it, it was after 8:30 and he practically ran out the door after giving them his phone number.

 

He checked his watch again: 9:47. He’s been here for almost an hour and still no sign of him. Keith has spent the time absently moving to the music with one of his old fuck buddies, checking his watch, and slowly getting more and more frustrated. He had positioned himself near the center of the crowd like he usually did, where he could see most of the room and be seen.

 

He looked back up to the entrance.

 

Was that..?

 

Keith nearly felt like laughing when he saw that snapback coming towards the dancefloor.

 

Finally.

 

He broke away from his current dance partner with a quick “See ya” and made his way to one side of the room. Sliding into the open space near the edges of the crowd, he settled back into the rhythm of the music, dancing by himself. Now he had to be patient before he could move on to the next part of his plan.

 

It took nearly 10 minutes before his quarry came back into view. This time he also saw Keith and, predictably, he moved into an empty spot on the opposite side of the room, still keeping towards the fringes of the group. That meant that the entire surprisingly large Tuesday crowd was dancing in between them.

 

Keith cursed under his breath. He was hoping that if he moved out of the center that he would follow. He turned around, putting his back to him. Maybe he just needed some incentive to finally step into the middle of the room. Keith had no problem providing that.

 

He slowly dragged his hands up the sides of his body, swaying half-time to the music, and let the fabric of his shirt be pulled upwards. He skipped from his ribs straight to carding his fingers through his hair and tugging some of the strands from the ponytail. His hips angled downward in a seductive roll and he peeked over his shoulder.

 

He…

 

Wasn’t even looking at Keith.

 

What. The. Hell.

 

Keith could barely see him with all the people in the way, but he was currently leaned over speaking to another, smaller guy, who was nodding enthusiastically. The two of them started to move together to beat. He spared a glance at Keith and gave him a quick smile before he turned back to his current dance partner.

 

Keith hadn’t realized he had stopped dancing but now he was vaguely aware of all the bodies moving around him.

 

This was their normal game, though. They would each pick someone to dance up on and they would pretend the other person didn’t exist for at least the first 30 minutes, sneaking glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking. He was going through the same motions that they did every time.

 

It annoyed Keith.

 

He took a deep breath.

 

Patience.

 

This night is only just getting started.

 

He started to move again, conscious of how much space there was between him and the people nearby. He wanted it to be very clear that he was dancing alone tonight.

 

Over the course of the next half an hour, Keith kept his eyes on Him. He wanted to make it very clear that this is not going to be the same as any other night. Every time he looked over, he would make eye contact.

 

Even through the crowd and lights, Keith could see that his direct gaze was having an effect. He was becoming increasingly distracted from his partner and he started looking up at Keith more and more. Trying to be sly, as if, rather than checking him out, he was wondering if Keith was still staring.

 

Keith just focused on staying in one spot and watching him. He wasn’t sure how He was going to react when Keith began the next step, and it was clear that he was feeling uneasy with this change in their pattern. He didn’t want him to cut and run if he started to get too close.

 

While he waited, Keith entertained himself by counting the seconds between his glances. It was amusing how the intervals became smaller and smaller.

 

Eventually, he just gave up pretending that Keith didn’t have his full attention. He had his hands on the other dancer’s waist but he smirked at Keith and this time he didn’t turn away.

 

Keith returned the look with one of his own and let his hands fall to his sides, imitating His.

 

It was frustrating that he couldn’t see him well enough to watch his hips roll against his partner, but Keith had to stick to his plan if he was going to score tonight. Besides, he’d seen it plenty of times before and he could easily picture it in his mind.

 

He waited for a couple more minutes before he started to move. He steadily started making his way around the edge of the group. Keith lost sight of him almost immediately, but he kept going until he found another break in the crowd. He stayed put for the few seconds it took him to find Keith again.

 

He shot Keith a look of confusion but then he grinned and readjusted the brim of his hat.

 

Keith decided that meant he could step it up a bit.

 

He ducked around a group of friends all laughing loudly as they danced. He found another spot where he could see him. This was it. Keith was now between him and the door. He absently moved his shoulders in an attempt to keep up the appearance of dancing.

 

He was leaned over his new friend again, talking into his ear. But he looked up at Keith and Keith felt his heartbeat pick up. He was clearly aware of what he was up to. He straightened and gave Keith a confident smile.The shadow darkening his face made it hotter and he wanted to rip that stupid hat right off his head. It was unfair how the obscurity it granted also gave him such control over Keith’s libido.

 

Keith moved again around the side towards him.

 

When Keith looked back to where his partner was, he was gone. Keith scowled and scanned the crowd. He couldn’t have gone far.

 

He reappeared closer to the DJ booth still on the outside of the group. He was staring at Keith, smirk still comfortably on his face. He was enjoying this little game of chase.

 

This was exactly what Keith had been anticipating, though.

 

He pushed towards him again, careful to keep to the edge of the crowd.

 

He moved again, keeping his distance from Keith.

 

He was now next to the booth. If he wanted to stay away from Keith he was going to have to cut through the pack.

 

Keith made his final move. He slid through the empty spaces towards Him.

 

He came out the other side of another group of friends near the DJ and looked around.

 

_Where the fuck did he go now?_

 

Keith stood there, searching the dancers for a familiar snapback but was coming up empty.

 

He felt himself growl in frustration but the sound was lost to the music blasting next to his ears.

 

Keith pushed through the crowd towards the middle of the dancers. It was too early for him to have left the club entirely, but it was starting to look like tonight was going to be another bust.

 

He randomly picked a guy, hood of his jacket pulled up over his head, Keith barely noticed, to dance on. He kept his eyes scanning the people, but it felt good to make the familiar motions. He kept to the guy’s side so he could move away if he didn’t appreciate Keith’s body rocking up against him.

 

Instead of moving away, Keith felt hands on his sides, guiding him to his front. Keith allowed him to pull him in, but he turned around so he could face away from him. Not only did he not want to give this guy the wrong idea but he also needed to be able to see the crowd. They danced together while Keith watched the other people. Well, it was more like Keith danced absently and the other guy just sort of matched his movements.

 

The two moved like this for... Keith lost track of how long he’s been looking. It could’ve been anywhere between 5 minutes and 40. It was beginning to look like his target had fled the club.

 

It was now almost 11:30pm and he began to resign himself to the fact that He got away.

 

Keith relaxed more into the space between him and his random dance partner. Might as well go home, at this point. He exhaled heavily and tried to force the tension from his body.

 

The guy behind him took this as an invitation to dance a little dirtier. One hand slid down to rest over his thigh and the other snuck under Keith’s shirt, pausing hesitantly above the waistband.

 

Keith didn’t care. He was tired and frustrated and this was as good as anything he was going to get tonight. Pushing backwards into his lap and running his hands over the sleeves of his jacket, Keith let himself enjoy the heat from body at his back and the arms wrapping their way around him.

 

The hand skimmed over his stomach and danced on the skin of his side just under his ribs. The arm was now trapping Keith against him and he let his head roll back onto his shoulder. He was still staring out at the other dancers, but he’s given up hope of finding him tonight.

 

The hand under his shirt slid up and then back down to line of his dark jeans and the other one squeezed the top of his thigh.

 

Keith let the motion of the body behind him guide the sway of their hips, distantly thinking that this wasn’t a bad consolation prize. But he’s sick of not getting what he wants. Maybe he’ll just go home after all.

 

He leaned over Keith’s shoulder, face next to his ear and spoke.

 

“Nice try today, hotstuff, but I gotta bounce.” His slightly hoarse voice was pitched low and then he began to withdraw. “We’ll pick this back up next time.”

 

It took Keith a second to process what he just said. He whirled around.

 

He was slipping into the crowd but, sure enough, the hood was back down now and the snapback was returned to its place. He quickly disappeared behind the moving bodies and if Keith hadn’t seen the hat he probably wouldn’t have seen him at all.

 

Pushing through the other dancers, Keith frantically searched the faces close to the edge of the dance floor, but it was too late.

 

Keith glanced down at his watch. It was almost a quarter to midnight. He missed his chance.

 

This time he really did leave.

 

Somehow, he missed seeing Him on his way out, too.

 

\----

 

Keith opened the door to his apartment and shuffled inside. He didn’t bother turning on any lights and headed straight for the bathroom. Grudgingly, he flipped the switch and glared at his reflection in the sudden bright light.

 

His headache was back. Lack of sleep and the pounding music almost every night made it impossible to get rid of entirely.

 

He turned the knob and put his hands under the faucet, staring blankly at the water collecting there.

 

This had been the most frustrating attempt so far. At least the last two times he tried he failed only because he wasn’t there. Tonight… his plan did not go as well as he had hoped and then he had lost him in the crowd and, before he knew it, the night was over.

 

Keith splashed the water on his face, ripped off two sheets from the roll of paper towels on the counter, and rubbed his face dry. Looking up his reflection, he stared at the dark smudges around his eyes from the kohl that didn’t wipe off. He folded the paper over and brought the now wet towel back to his face and rubbed again at the eye makeup.

 

Still… tonight hadn’t been a total waste, he supposed. He now had some references to help relieve some of his frustrations about the whole situation.

 

He gave up on scrubbing his face and threw away the paper towel. He glanced over at the shower. He he considered taking care of it in the morning… No. Might as well do it now.

 

He turned the water on and stripped quickly, pulling the rest of his hair from its usual low ponytail and stepping into the stream. The water wasnt as hot as he usually liked it, but he just wanted to get this over with and crawl into bed. He reached down to grab the knockoff brand 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner and poured more than necessary into his hand. He worked it through his tangled hair. He probably should’ve brushed it out first.

 

As he massaged the product through his scalp, he thought back on his unusually busy day. Meeting Lance in the coffee shop had been pure chance and, as much as he had been annoyed at the time, he was actually glad that he had. Playing video games with him and his friends was probably the most fun he’d had in a while. He smiled wryly at the shower wall when he realized that that was exactly the sort of social thing Shiro had been hounding him to do.

 

He tried not to dwell too much on Lance; he was slightly unnerved by just how attracted he was to him. Especially when he was beginning to realize that they could potentially be friends.

 

He tugged another knot out of his hair.

 

Thinking of unfairly attractive people… Keith had been trying to figure out the whole way home just how he managed to dance with Him. It was just pure dumb luck that he picked him of all people to grind against.

 

It was frustrating that they were dancing together for probably a good thirty minutes and not only did he _not know_ , He also turned out to be an annoyingly polite person who didn’t immediately start groping Keith. That was a rare trait to find in the kinds of people that regularly visit that particular club. It was nice of him to be so considerate and there was a part of Keith that was a bit flattered that he respected him enough to not assume that he could touch him without permission.

 

On the other hand, Keith completely resented him for the lost potential of that half an hour.

 

He finished working the product through his hair and he let his hands fall to his sides. The water had warmed to a comfortable temperature by now and Keith stood under the spray, feeling it impact against his chest and shoulders and run down the length of his body.

 

He said that they’d continue next time.

 

Keith bit his lip. Those words almost made up for all the shit he’d put himself through trying to catch this guy. He wondered if he meant they would just start right where they left off or if they were going to play through part of their little game first.

 

He dragged his hand up his leg and cut across his midsection to the spot just below his ribs that He had touched earlier. Keith could remember just how soft and teasing the gesture was. It contrasted with the tight grip that He had on his thigh. Keith tried to imitate the move and squeezed down the best he could. It wasn’t quite the same. Keith’s hands felt smaller than His did and he wasn’t sure if that was true or if he was just remembering it wrong. Still, it was close enough to remind his body of how it felt.

 

He stepped forward and turned around to rinse the soap from his hair. Tilting his head to side caused the water drops to land directly on his neck. He tried to recall if he had breathed hot air on his ear when he murmured to him or if he was just making that up. He wished he had paid more attention when it was happening.

 

Rinsing his hair clean, he stepped away from the showerhead so the water was hitting his back instead of his head. He closed his eyes as he tried to summon the memories of what exactly happened but he had been distracted at the time. What he could remember was already mixing with fantasy and he wasn’t sure which was which anymore.

 

Whether he was actually remembering right or not, Keith concentrated on the memory of feeling his body against his back. Was he taller than Keith? He must have been. He remembered feeling him lean over a bit to speak into his ear. Did he grind against his cock or was that just his imagination? He decided that he did, if only because he wanted to believe it. He didn't want to think that he had missed such an opportunity.

 

Keith tried to picture what his hands would look like gripping his thighs. The club’s poor lighting made it difficult to tell what color his skin was, but from what he could see, it looked like a medium tone. He was darker than Keith, that was for certain.

 

He gripped one hand on the outside of his leg and the other one slipped in between to stroke up the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Keith imagined that he would keep the touch teasingly light. Would he drag his nails carefully over the delicate skin? He hoped so, and he let his blunt nails repeat the motion of his fingerpads. As much as he liked the idea of him being gentle, Keith preferred it hard and fast; all teeth and nails and desperation.

 

It took him a second to realize that the image in his head of His hands looked an awful lot like Lance’s.

 

He only spent a few hours with him today, but Keith had noticed how quick and skillful those fingers were...

 

He pushed the thought from his mind forcefully. It was one thing for him to jack off to the hot boy from the club, who barely had a recognizable face under that snapback, and another thing for him to use _Lance_ to fill in the gaps of his fantasies.

 

Keith leaned over, bracing one hand against the wall. If he was going to do this, he should just get it over with. Preferably before he let the two guys he was currently lusting after merge together in his head. If he was never going to see Lance again, then he might’ve let himself get away with it, but he'd confirmed that he would be at next weeks game night. He didnt need any more complications there, considering he'd already had enough trouble with controlling his dick around him.

 

He used his free hand to tease at the skin of his ballsack, falling back into his thoughts. Was he the kind of asshole that always had to top? His fuckboy style of dress certainly implied it. But then again, he was much more considerate than Keith would have guessed and the delicate touches on his skin said that there was something more sensitive about him. He wanted to believe that he would be open to either position.

 

Despite fantasizing about him off and on for the past two months, Keith had yet to decide if he wanted to ride his dick to the music in the middle of the dance floor or if he wanted to be slammed against a bathroom stall and fucked hard.

 

He moved his hand to start pumping his cock slowly, still keeping his touches lighter than he normally would. It made it easier to pretend that it was someone else’s hand wrapped around him.

 

The way that he had guided Keith’s hips through the motions while they were dancing was exactly the sort of thing he should have expected from him. He didnt use his hands to physically maneuver Keiths body into position; instead he'd just plastered himself to Keith's ass. When he moved his own hips, Keith’s just followed. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much he had liked that. He might have been able to feel everything about him, if only Keith had been paying attention. He spent so long watching those seductive hip rolls from across the room that it nearly killed his hard on realizing the chance he had basically wasted. He'd actually touched his body and Keith couldnt even remember it clearly.

 

His breathing picked up as he maneuvered his body away from the shower spray, leaning onto his arm for more support. Precome leaked from from the tip of his cock making it easier for him to pick up the pace with more aggressive strokes.

 

As appealing as it sounded, Keith was not in the mood to let his stranger take control in this imaginary tryst. He loved the thought of those long, clever fingers digging into his skin and teasing all sort of reactions from his body. But as he rested his head on the tile wall and exposed his neck to the falling water, Keith thought only of the huskiness of his voice breathing against his ear.

 

Keith wanted to hear more; wanted to hear him open his stupid mouth with that cocky grin and _moan_.

 

He wondered how much it would take to pull the sounds he desired; how wrecked they would be. Keith licked his lips, pretending that he was lapping at the column of His throat. He could almost taste the salt that would be on his skin from the sweat he built up while dancing. Would he be into biting? Keith was, so he imagined that the other male would be too. He thought about sucking purple bruises onto his neck that he would take home and somehow have to explain to all his friends and family or whoever that he saw during the day that he was a dirty whore who liked getting fucked in a club by a stranger..

 

Keith bit back a groan and tightened his grasp.

 

He wondered if he would be cocky about it and show off his marks with pride. He could just see the smug grin on his face now. It, coincidentally, was the same smirk he always gave Keith.

 

God, he just wanted to see those lips stretched tightly around his cock. Maybe then Lance would stop talking.

 

As Keith’s thoughts screeched to halt, his traitorous hand kept pumping. He couldn’t tell when the two had gotten mixed again, but he was too far gone to stop now. He knew he was definitely going to regret this later, but he shut his eyes again and tightened his hand around himself.

 

He thought about Lance on his knees, looking up at him from where he knelt by his cock. He would probably smirk at him like he was just about to give the best blow job Keith has ever had. He had no idea if Lance would be lying; if he'd put up a front in order to hide how nervous he was, or maybe he was secretly a dick sucking champion once you got past his generally obnoxious personality.

 

Either way, he would then probably _tell_ Keith that he was about to have the best BJ of his life because, even in his fantasy, Lance can’t just do something without talking first.

 

He was breathing heavily against the wall and he had to actively choke down the quiet moans that were threatening to spill out.

 

After Keith probably (most definitely) told him to shut up and prove it, Lance would give him a devious smile and and proceed to wrap his lips around the tip. He’d slide down the shaft, probably fitting most of his dick in before he hit the back of his throat. Slowly, he would back up, dragging his tongue along the underside and swirling over the tip when he got to the end.

 

A small groan slipped past his lips.

 

If Keith hadn’t been hard before he started, he definitely would be now. Lance would probably gloat about having such an immediate effect on him. Keith would just dig his fingers into that curling brown hair and tug him back towards his cock. He would give him another arrogant smirk and Keith would pretend to be annoyed. He knew he had a bit of a fixation with the cocky way Lance quirked his lips (he chalked that up to confusing him with the guy from the club again) but it was even more satisfying when he pictured it mouthing at his cock.

 

His strokes were getting messy and frantic now.

 

Lance really would be a champ at sucking dick, Keith decided. He had to be good at using that pretty mouth of his for something other than talking, so it might as well be giving head. He would move up and down his length, deep-throating him easily and quickly pulling Keith apart.

 

At this rate, he wasn’t going to last much longer. He shifted his weight slightly so he could lean his shoulder against the wall and bring his other hand down to play with his balls as he imagined Lance would.

 

The soft stroke of fingers brushing his sack was the final tipping point. Keith came with a stifled cry, spattering cum across the wall.

 

He stood there leaning against the shower wall, breathing heavily as his senses started trickling back into awareness. He felt the water pelting his shoulders, the weakness in his legs, the ache in his back from bending so long at such an awkward angle.

 

Slowly, he straightened his spine. He hadn’t realized before now that his whole body felt exhausted. Not just from masturbating all over his shower. It felt deeper than that. Probably from going clubbing so often.

 

Keith reached for the body soap and gave himself a quick scrub down. He made sure to let the water wash away the evidence of his activities before he rinsed himself off and climbed out. He picked up a stray towel from the floor and dried off before he grabbed a pair of sweatpants and slipped them on. The towel stayed on his head while he searched through the pockets of his discarded clothes for his wallet and phone. With the two in hand, he made his way into his room and flopped onto the bed, which consisted of a pile of sheets and a mattress he had stuck onto the floor. The towel fanned out underneath his head as he stared up blankly at the ceiling.

 

Keith was suddenly aware of the fact that he had just jacked off to the idea of some guy he barely knew giving him a blow job. Which, as far his standards went, wasnt too unusual. The problem here was that he wasn’t just some nameless nobody he was never going to see again. This was _Lance_. Shiro’s friend. The barista who works in the coffeeshop on the corner that gets beautiful afternoon sunlight. The guy he’s supposed to play video games with next week.

 

Keith doesn’t fuck his friends. Or his friends’ friends. Things get too complicated.

 

This was a very big problem.

 

He tossed his wallet awkwardly towards the edge of the bed. He’ll find it in the morning. Hitting a button to turn on the screen, he checked the time.

 

Oh, yeah. It’s way past bedtime.

 

But there were also several notifications about new text messages. He frowned at the screen. He didn’t really want to read them right now, but he was also desperate for something else to think about.

 

He unlocked his phone and opened up the new messages, all of which were from numbers he didn’t know. The first two were from Hunk and Pidge, which were just messages so he could save their numbers. He went ahead and saved them before he opened up the messages from the third number.

 

Predictably, Lance couldn’t send just one text. He sent seven.

  


(8:52pm)

hey! this is Lance!

 

(9:04pm)

so i kno ure probably busy rn but i wanna ask you somthing

 

(9:04)

its just that i had a lot of fun today and well ur a pretty cool guy

 

(9:05)

so i just wanna kno if u maybe wanna hang out sometime?

 

(9:05)

just the two of us

 

(9:07)

as in a date

 

(9:09)

kay! so just let me kno whenver!

  


Keith stared at the messages.

 

Once again, here was Lance doing the exact opposite of what Keith wanted him to do.

 

He closed out of the app and plugged his phone into the charger. This was way too much to deal with tonight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me crying about how hard writing is at lance-legstrong.tumblr.com


End file.
